


Poprocks & Time

by WeirdshitWriter



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drinking, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Violence, Oblivious Queen Poppy (Trolls), Poppy goes through it, Poppy-centric, Seriously don't let the fluff tag fool you stuff hits the fan, Time Travel, headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24816247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdshitWriter/pseuds/WeirdshitWriter
Summary: Poppy is flung through time and learns and loves. Mostly learning hurt and how to love after it.Post Trolls World Tour.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an exercise in patience for myself and character study for my girl Poppy. 
> 
> There will be music in certain chapters, either mentioned in only their title. Or a brief set of lyrics or music description, the song(s) will be linked in the notes. 
> 
> The reference for this chapter is, https://youtu.be/5Z3zDJSNpac
> 
> Feedback and comments are welcomed!
> 
> The song used in this chapter, is by Coheed and Cambria - Welcome Home

Poppy was the most happy when her friends were happy. And Barb was very happy to finally introduce Poppy to her dad. Who in Barb’s words, “Is the best person! Ever!”

At King Thrash’s side Barb gestured from her father to Poppy, grinning. “King Thrash, Queen Poppy! Queen Poppy, King Thrash!”

“Heya King Thrash, it's great to finally meet Barb’s dad! I’ve heard so much about you-great things of course.” Poppy chimed. While Barb’s face split into an antsy wide eyed gaze, waiting for the older troll’s response.

There was a small pause as the elderly rocker turned to Poppy, blinking then leaning in. Eyes lighting up as he examined Poppy. A small chuckle than a rolling jeer escaped the king. “Wild Thing!” Thrash cheered with a croaking laugh. “It’s been a while hasn’t it my ol’ friend.”

Squinting at Thrash Poppy opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out as she turned to Barb who shared her confusion. 

“Uhhh Dad, that's not Wild Thing, that’s Poppy. Queen of the Pop Trolls, my best friend!” Barb beams at best friend with an energetic nod. “Both of them being pink is probably the only thing they have in common.” Barb explains with a small chuckle, holding the King’s hand as she gestures to Poppy with a smile. 

“Hm,” King Thrash blinks, looking about absently. The recognition and light seemingly gone in a flash. “What was that Barbra?” 

Poppy gave Barb a sad look as the rocker patted the King’s hand with a shrunken smile. 

Barb lets out a sigh before barking out, “Riff!” as said rock intern suddenly appears at the rock queens side, saluting. “Get dad to his room! Also a juicebox!” 

“Yes Your Rockness, right away Your Rockness” Riff snapped carting King Thrash off to his room. Watching the elder rock troll be ushered out. 

Poppy turned to Barb with a quirked brow, asking, “Soooo, who’s Wild Thing? Some rocker?”

Barb slowly turns to Poppy. Barb gaps at her pink friend, hand to her chest as if she was just insulted. “Poppy!” Barb admonishes. Poppy grew a worried expression, did she step over some rock troll social line?

“Some rocker? Some rocker?! Wild Thing isn’t just some rocker, she’s the most hardcore rocker that ever exsisted-well after dad-but she was dad’s right hand troll! She’s a legend, there was this one time sh-” Pulling Poppy to a pair of bean bags. Sitting both of them down, Barb explodes into a rant. Hands sailing through the air, eyes wide while a toothy smile plays at her lips. Poppy couldn’t help her own excited but relieved smile at Barb’s lit up expression. 

An interruption in the shape of half-lidded Carol hovered over Barb’s shoulder, whispering into Barb’s ear. 

Barb whirls towards the leopard print troll who’s unfazed by the queen’s sharp look. “ _ What _ I’m kinda in the middle of something-gesturing to herself and Poppy- What is it?” A pause and a whisper from Carol, Barb’s eyes going wide. “What!? Did you send in the metalheads?” A small nod and a whisper, disbelief crept into Barb’s voice. “ _ They _ couldn’t even handle it!?” A longer string of whisper as a grimace settles on Barb’s face. “Of  _ course  _ not alone,” Barb sighs, palming her face, as she tenses into serious queen mode, facing Carol. “Get me the front squad of metalheads and a bunch of the best punks! Have them meet me at the northeast end!” Poppy smiled softly as Barb stood straight, stern determination lighting up her face. 

A drawl of ‘Yes your Rockness’ and Carol is off. Barb turns to Poppy with a frustrated sigh saying “Lava moles, queen business. Ya know.” Poppy didn’t know but gave Barb an understanding smile and nod anyways. 

Getting up to face Poppy with an apologetic look and finger-gun as she quickly inches out of the throne room, Barb says, “We’ll definitely pick this back up tomorrow Popsicle! Sorry!” before bolting off down the hall. 

Poppy wanted to say S’okay Barb, good luck on your Queen business but all that came out was a “Sure thing.” Poppy just as Barb disappeared around the corner, her voice echoing in the empty throne room. “Oh...what do I do know?” Poppy muttered to herself as she made her way out of the throne room. 

Poppy didn’t invite Branch cause she stressed to him this was a Queen to Queen thing. Poppy’s visit is supposed to last three days, day one was supposed to be Queen business then quality time with Barb and a bunch of fun activities-games, singing, and more! Both had so much time sunk into leader stuff that Poppy  _ had  _ to take any time to spend with Barb. Even if it meant being by herself for a while. 

She wasn’t mad at Barb at all though, if anyone knew that Queen stuff calls at the worst times. It was Poppy. Sometimes it was during an intense scrapbook session other times it was during a visit you were really excited for and marked in your calendar counting down the days for.

Poppy felt a pang of disappointment despite herself as she walked to her guestroom-Barb didn’t like calling it that though. Barb had turned to the troll arranging the rooms at the time reprimanding them for calling it a guest room, it’s  _ Poppy’s _ . Then turning to Poppy, Your room through and through Barb had said with a firm nod. The room had all of Poppy’s impromptu scrapbooks from previous visits, games from her and Barb’s sessions, and the fluffiest couch bed Barb swore was just lying around the castle’s hall prior to finding itself in Poppy’s guest room. 

Poppy didn’t really mind the guest rooms in all the other leader’s homes, but Barb knew how to make a troll feel welcomed. 

Poppy’s eyes and legs wandered the dim lit halls of Barb’s castle. Fingers grazing the warm but dark walls. The Fortress is what the Rock tribe dubbed it, every other tribe’s home already felt so much larger than Pop Village but it was the Rock tribe in Volcano Rock City that made the size and population of the Pop trolls feel so, so small. They had a castle! And lived in volcanoes! In Barb’s words, it was metal!

Poppy felt her smile flatten as her face pulled into a scrunch, tight lipped.

Poppy couldn’t help but understand Barb’s plight and mission during her World Tour even more when she officially visited Barb the first time. Poppy understood wanting the best and wishing to do right by a couple hundred trolls in a village. She could only imagine the weight of the stress Barb was under-is under- with nearly ten thousand trolls in her care. 

Poppy’s smile bounced back to life.

But it was okay now, cause Barb had Poppy and all the other tribe leaders helping her! 

Not to mention the colorful windows with pictures in Barb’s castle-wait. Poppy looks behind her, when was she supposed to make those two lefts and a right again. Or was it two rights and a left…Oh, well! She’ll ask the next troll where she could find the guest-wing, for now, it's explore Barb’s ginormous awesome castle O' clock.

Poppy studies the stained glass windows, jagged shapes etched in a kaleidoscope of colors. Depicting various rock trolls, Poppy realizes with a giddiness and rapid foot stomping, the rock tribe’s rulers specifically. Some were wearing wicked sharp toothed smiles, others were serious, and even a few had casual smiles lazily throwing up horns. All wielding a guitar, the guitar that previously housed the rock tribe’s string and later all tribe’s string. 

Poppy shook her head of the memory, and noted the smaller patches, portraits, pictures, and stained panels surrounding the rock leaders. Detailing the greatest events and exploits of the leader’s time as well...leader of the rock trolls.

With a grin, Poppy hovered a finger over the masses of memorabilia. Oh! There was a Queen Major, she cleared the main volcanoes of boulder behemoths and founded Volcano Rock City! A volcanic eruption raged behind the calm but smug queen as giants fell into cracks in the earth. Ooh, and there were Kings Zeppelin and Mason, they united all the smaller rock tribes to face off against a horde of invading pests that lasted over ten years! Patches of great battles surrounded the kings, in addition to the two’s wedding, bathed in the pests' innards. Awww but ew.

Poppy definitely had to see the awesomeness of Barb’s window and recordings now. With a skip in her step Poppy ran down the hall of faces, scanning for a red mohawk rocker. 

Slowing her pace, Poppy saw that the faces trickled and trickled down, until there were two windows left, two plaques below them. 

Face falling into a small frown, there was no sign of a Barb portrait. 

Poppy read the plaques below the two not-Barb trolls. One being Barb's dad. His plaque read,  _ King Thrash _ ,  _ The Brutal & Best of Us _ . Then there was King Thrash frozen in his prime of stained glass. Horns up, guitar strapped to his back with a vicious grin. Poppy’s head cocked to the side with a furrowed brow at the plaque. ‘The Brutal’ felt like such a far away title from the sweet older troll Poppy met earlier. Poppy tried to read the paragraph below the plaque but it was rubbed and blurred away by too many hands from before.

With a hmph and a shrug, Poppy’s attention turned towards the other not-Barb troll.

Dark dots and stars swam in Poppys peripheral. A sudden sharp pain had Poppy cradling her head, twisting her eyes shut with a cry. It was like pins and needles were dancing and jabbing across every part of Poppy’s brain. Poppy felt tears prick at the edges of her eyes as the pain seemed to turn from a dance to a constant march that made soft thudding in her ears. Poppy was going to shout for someone. Then.

The pain stopped as suddenly as it started.

Eyes springing open and darting, Poppy straightened herself, taking inventory of the empty hall. “What th-how the...” 

There was nobody except herself and the other her. Rubbing her head as she paced down the hall, Poppy thought she should find a doctor. Wait, do rock troll doctors even know how to treat pop trol-other her! 

Backpedaling with wide eyes and a line for lips, Poppy saw the mirror. Or at least she thought it was a mirror. “Where did this even come from?” Poppy asked, checking to see if the mirror sat above anything. After all, there was a portrait here just a minute ago. 

Jagged black frame, with red guitar picks lining the edge and stood by itself without memorabilia. Nothing under it.

It was a mirror for sure.

What made Poppy blink and stare was her reflection in the mirror. It definitely was her. Monochrome pink, same size, same face, but…

It didn’t wave when she waved. Dance when danced. Not even blink when she did.

Just stood in place, striking a pose with a pair of horns up in the air. Furrowing her brow, Poppy examined her reflection with a tilt. “Huh, weird.”

Reflection Poppy didn’t look like Queen Poppy of the Pop Trolls. Reflection-Poppy’s hair wasn’t in a ponytail bloom, she wasn’t wearing her flower crown or teal dress. This Poppy dressed like a rock troll. Leather jacket, fishnets under plaid shorts, and spiked band around her wrist. Whispering with a nod of approval “Cute fit,” Poppy said.

The differences didn’t stop at wardrobe though.

Reflection-Poppy smiled, but instead of the blunt teeth of a pop troll and ‘I don’t bite, we can be friends’ expression. Poppy was met with the fangs of a rocker and a smile that gobbled up the looker. Her hair was a mane of pink and dark strips of colors, hair going in each and every direction. Her hair pooled and eclipsed her other eye from the shark grin. Though out of all her reflection’s features, it was the eye that called-no, demanded Poppy’s attention. The white of her eye was a mist red, that wasn’t what drew Poppy’s gaze though.

Encased in a smokey charcoal that dusted over her reflection’s freckles and cheeks, Reflection-Poppy’s eye were lit up with something wild and distant Poppy didn’t expect to see worn on her face. It was a sharpness matched with a glaze. A look she’d catch Branch with when he thought nobody was looking. Even Barb wore it, when moments were too quiet and not full enough. 

A lump formed in Poppy’s throat as a wrongness gnawed at her insides. “This- I- I shouldn’t be here. I should find somebody. This isn’t a normal mirror! I should call Barb-Riff-Branch! Er-somebody!” Averting her eyes, Poppy held up a hand up to block the side of her face. As if the mirror was spoiling someone else’s gift to Poppy. “Nope, not looking. Going to do the responsible-Queen thing here and not look. This trip is Barb bonding time only, weird magic stuff is later .” Poppy affirmed to herself.

Poppy went to march down the hall with a huff, away from this weird-wrong-mirror and this weird-wrong-Poppy. 

Or at the very least Poppy wanted to march away.

Something. Something magnetic. Hypnotic even, made Poppy drop her hand and turn towards the mirror. It wasn’t sudden, a weight creeped into Poppy’s hand as a force pulled the pop-queen to look into the mirror.

Her reflection no longer strikes a pose, she was still smiling; smugly. A small gasp left Poppy as she watched her once frozen reflection slowly point at herself than Poppy, then down, below the mirror. Poppy didn’t realize she was getting closer to the mirror and plaque. Unsure the pop queen looked to her reflection then to the plaque, reading Wild Thing-Pinkie-Friend Feral-The Roll.

Confusion etched its way onto Poppy’s face. “What does that even mean?”

Pulling away from the plaque Poppy’s body went stiff as she was met with her reflection. 

No longer striking a pose.

Instead rearing and alive, guitar in hand, pick in the other, a troll eating smile posed. Poppy’s reflection smirked, before vaulting into a distorted guitar  [ riff ](https://youtu.be/5Z3zDJSNpac) . Easing in with a rhythmic back and forth. Then sweeping in a squeal and rocking back to the rhythm, her reflection seemed to flow and express with her riff as Poppy watched in awe. Reflection-Poppy slinked her head as the final chord of her riff rang out. “Ready to rock?” 

“Wha-”

The  [ bass  ](https://youtu.be/plATdI73Jk8?t=24) of a drum slammed out, as an entire drum kit thrummed to life. Reflection-Poppy cackled with a sharp grin as she played wildly at her guitar. Fierce red lights and purple fog began to leak out of the mirror. Flooding Poppy’s vision, her reflection was a black silhouette against the billowing purple fog only lit up by dancing multi-color strobe lights. Until the fog buried Poppy in every direction with thick waves of purple. 

Panic swam through Poppy as she kept backing up, expecting to hit the wall of the castle’s hall at some point. Then her foot met air as she felt her body fall backwards into the air. 

The drum tinked into the background as another distorted riff rang through the air, purple fog parting as a pink hand flung out to catch Poppy’s own. Stalling Poppy’s descent. Her dangling foot kicked for purchase only meeting air, while the other barely gripped the edge. Craning her head Poppy saw no end to the vast darkness below.

Facing her reflection with a tight and worried smile, “Uh, a little help?” Poppy’s forced smile dropped into terror as her reflection gave a small shake of her head. Holding Poppy’s arm in one hand and a guitar in the other. Squirming as her reflection’s grip tightened, Poppy tugged and flayed in the air. “Wait, we can talk about this! Hey! Hellooo! Wait, listen!” Poppy cried, now dangling over the darkness below. Poppy was only met with her face sporting a toothy smile as she was flung into the dark below, shouting on her way down.

Poppy’s reflection and the platform became smaller and smaller. 

A distorted riff haunted Poppy in her fall. And the dark swallowed her whole.


	2. Enter Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy learns she's not when she needs to be and meets a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs for this chapter are  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lhg9bYNLvOg and https://youtu.be/yLypTQRbQXs?t=22

Peeling her eyes open, Poppy could tell off the bat that she wasn’t in her room in Barb’s castle. Or Barb’s Castle. Or anywhere with a ceiling. A darkening orange sky swirling above her, flocks of bats fluttering across. 

Groaning, Poppy rubbed her head as a throbbing edged in and out, pushing herself off the hard bumpy ground. _Definitely_ still in rock troll territory Poppy thought as she took in the sweeping canyons, pillars of sharp rock, and hissing pools of lava sprinkled around her. 

“How did I even get here?” 

Poppy grimaced at the memory of Reflection-Poppy. Fangs gleaming as she chucked Poppy over the edge.

“Oh, _her_.”

Poppy was glad she knew how she got here-well not glad-but how was she going to get home or to Barb’s castle?

Hm. 

“Okay Poppy, all _you_ gotta do is get from here-wherever here is- and get back to Rock City.” Poppy smiled, propping her hands on her waist and puffing her chest. “Besides, how _hard_ can getting back to Rock City even be?” Poppy assured with a hand wave. Pappy paused, eyes widening in suspicion. “Hey, when did the ground start heating up anyways?”

Poppy was promptly thrown into the air as a patch of ground erupted with hot air.

Landing face first on the ground, voice muffled, Poppy exclaimed “Oooh, that’s how hard it’s going to be!”

Pulling her face from the ground and spitting out some spare pebbles, Poppy beamed.

Knock Poppy down and she’ll get back up again. 

* * *

It wasn’t that Poppy didn’t like bug bikes or angler buses. She actually loved when Barb let Poppy take rides on the rock queen’s own bug-bike. It's just that most rock trolls chose to fly them over Pop Village en masse when most trolls and trollings were just settling down. And it just made Poppy a tad bit grumpy whenever she saw them.

But this time around Poppy found herself getting excited at the site of parked angler buses she’d spotted past a pocket of rock pillars.

Sneaking to look out over a perch of rocks overlooking the scene. Poppy is glad she didn’t race out to find the nearest rock troll.

The rock trolls below looked busy dealing with a hulking mole monster. Poppy knew what Barb meant by lava-moles now. Speaking of the rock-queen wasn’t she supposed to be dealing with a lava mole?

Poppy squints at the scene, rock trolls formed a circle around the orange and black beast with their electric guitars at the ready. 

One rocker thrashes their guitar, the mole ebbs in the direction of the noise. Then other rockers start playing their guitars. Head swiveling the mole roars in confusion at the onslaught of sound. 

The mole rears back, clawed arm raised.

Most of the rock trolls jump out the way of the mole’s sweeping paw. But one troll is caught as the mole starts to retreat into the ground.

The crowd of rock trolls call out “King Thrash!”

Poppy felt herself do a double take. Why the heck was King Thrash even out here?! And who let him near the big monster fight?!

Not even registering her own movements. Poppy leaped off her perch, towards the retreating mole, snatching a guitar from one of the nearby rock trolls with her hair. Screaming “I’m comin’ King Thrash, don’t worry!” Diving after the mole as it burrowed. Latching onto the literal tail end of the creature, Poppy’s view switched from sweeping volcanic landscape to dim tunnels. The creature nose-dived, making Poppy clench her teeth.

Clinging on for dear life at the mole’s tail, Poppy scales the monster as it rumbles through tunnel after tunnel. Squinting and trying to shield her eyes as bits of debris flew at her.

A voice booms over the thundering tunneling of the mole, “Hey Ugly!! Take this!”

Poppy’s grip on the mole’s dry fur was gone from under her as the mole veered into the side wall of the tunnel. The beast’s body formed a new hole as Poppy felt her body slam into the opposite wall, guitar somehow still in hand and together, pebbles and dust soaring this way and that.

Racing to the recently made entrance, Poppy watched the mole pull itself to its full height towering over the already tiny King Thrash on the other side. King Thrash was practically invisible from where Poppy stood no matter how long she stood on her tiptoes.

.

“Don’t worry King Thrash! I know just the thing!” Poppy shouted, teetering on her tiptoes. “At least I think I do.”

Poppy’s memory of the mole inching towards the noise of the rock trolls’ guitars flashed through her head. Branch always suggested a shoosh when it came to animals. 

Hopefully this applied to animals who lived in a volcanic waste. 

Steadying herself and breathing out. Poppy begins to pluck out a soft but familiar [ melody ](https://youtu.be/yLypTQRbQXs?t=22), though on the electric guitar it sounded much more haunting but Poppy played nonetheless. Until the final chord rang out.

The mole turns to Poppy with a guttural growl, nearing the pink troll. “Heh, heh, nice mole..?”

Poppy tenses, hand stretched out hesitantly in friendship. 

A sudden laugh bubbles out of Poppy as the mole practically envelopes her whole body in a lick. “Aw thanks, music helps me calm down too! Also gross.” Poppy cooed, petting the lumbering creature.

The mole flops down in front of Poppy, kicking plumes of dust into the air.

Looking past the lava mole and into the gaping cave Poppy calls out, coughing as the dust thins. “King Thrash, are you okay?! It’s saf-”

Poppy’s voice dies in her throat as she has to look up at the troll exiting the cave. Nearly as tall as Biggie, the rock troll had a goatee, sideburns turned up in horns, and thick eyebrows. Fangs poking out over his lips. Skin a grey blue. Wearing only a studded leather vest and shorts.

His eyes a glaring red. Glaring at Poppy, as a deep menacing voice left the troll. Though his accent reminded Poppy of the one she’d fake during fancy mystery parties. “That. Was,” The large troll inched towards Poppy with each word, making her shrink back. “Metal!” The rocker cheered, sharp teeth glinting into a wide grin.

Poppy blinked. “Oh, no problem. Just making sure King Thrash is safe, I don’t think Barb would like it if he got hurt.” Poppy says sheepishly, shrugging at the rocker troll’s words. 

The towering rocker snorts, “Uh you can tell Barb that I’m more than safe and know how to handle myself.” He tsked, “Come on, they don’t let _anyone_ be king. Not to mention I owe you big time for the save.”

Poppy squints. Then squints a bit harder at the troll in front of her. Her mind stuttered. 

“You okay there lil lady?”

“King..King Thrash?” Poppy ebbed, eyes widening as she took in the rock troll. Despite the elder troll from Poppy’s memory having wrinkles and sunken features, Poppy recognized his eyes, nose, and overall face shape. Recalling the troll’s stained window pane in the hall who shared this troll’s face and body.

“Yeah, who else would it be?” 

Poppy stared, then blinked. Forcing a smile. 

Think Poppy, think! Don’t just stand there!

“Uh-pfft, duh! _Who_ else would it be! You.. _your_ King Thrash, seriously am I right. _Who else_.” Poppy laughed nervously, smile too wide as she elbowed the towering rocker who quirked a brow at the pink troll.

Thrash stared at the pink troll before glancing around, noting the countless directions the tunnels went in. “Er, how do we even get out of here?”

“Oop, leave that to me!” Poppy says as she snaps out of her nervous daze. Turning her and King Thrash’s attention to the resting lava mole with an excited point.

“Gotta say it, Pinkie, you’re wild.”

Poppy opened her mouth to say her name was actually Poppy.

But nothing came out. 

She tried again. Nothing.

“And weird too.”

Poppy huffed after the umpteeth failed attempt at vocalizing her own name. Throwing her hands up. “Pinkie, yep, that’s my name. My really real actual name is Pinkie.” Poppy deadpanned, hands falling to her sides.

King Thrash fist pumped the air, “Ha! And Rosie says I’m bad at guessing. Now, how are you going to get the _mole_ to get _us_ out of here?”

Poppy’s eyes crinkled as she held up her guitar from earlier, shaking it back and forth in front of the lava mole. The mole perked up. “Turns out Dustin here likes music.” 

“Dustin?”

* * *

Poppy wants to say as soon as Dustin broke the surface that she harnessed her inner Branch. Told King Thrash that she wasn’t from this point in time. That she was a Queen and had friends and a village to get back to. That Poppy needed to get home pronto, that her friends were worried sick. No silly business or shenanigans. 

There weren’t really any types of silly business or shenanigans. Just, well, a party. 

A party that lasted the entire trip from Dustin, who Poppy saw off with a couple pets and a ‘stay out of trouble’, all the way to Volcano Rock City. Poppy only ever really heard and saw the endings of Barb and the rock trolls’ parties, noise dying and amps being unplugged. Poppy never knew parties could be so booming, aerial, and explosive! 

But Thrash’s presence had brought out an eagerness in the surrounding rock trolls when Poppy and him exited the tunnels. Thrash declaring that there'd be a party for Poppy didn’t help at all as she could practically feel the energy for a song picking up. Sitting in the maw of Thrash’s Angler Bus Poppy was enraptured. As the surrounding trolls began a chant backing up Thrash’s guitar playing. _Thunder!_ Buses and beetle-bikes taking off, Poppy couldn’t help but bob her head along and look out over the swarm of trolls nearly blotting out the sky. _Thunder!_ Thrash’s voice joined the chant.

_Thunder! Thunder!_ _Thunder! Thunder!_

Thrash flew through the air, standing atop the antenna of a beetle-bike. 

_“I was caught In the middle of a railroad track!”_

Then the king began bounding from platform to platform. From vehicle’s underbelly to top to side. No surface could hold Thrash still or down. Only ever staying still long enough to head bang or sing with a group of rockers. Thrash pulled trolls in with a grin, horns, and sharp gestures. 

Poppy could only stare on in awe as clouds began to gather. None of the rock trolls unperturbed. Especially not Thrash who smiled wider at the darkening clouds. Looking directly to Poppy as he jumped. Lightning running and spiking across the air. Barely missing the King as he had landed next to Poppy in the angler’s maw, belting _“You've been Thunderstruck!”_ The clouds rumbled in agreement, lightning cracking, as Thrash continued his song. 

If Poppy was being honest with herself, _nobody_ could harness their inner Branch when King Thrash pulled off a performance like _that_. Not even Branch couldn’t have harnessed his inner Branch either if he’d seen it.

Also, what pop troll turns down a party in their honor! What troll in general turns down a party in their honor!?

Definitely not Poppy. Or Pinkie, as Thrash and the other rock trolls were calling her.

Poppy found herself preferring and missing Barb’s nicknames for her, Poppsters, Poppers, Popstar, Poptart, Popsicle, and Popcorn. Now that Poppy thought about it, when she got back she should make sure Barb is eating enough. The amount of food related nicknames worried her a bit.

Speaking of food, Poppy never knew how spicy and bitter...and meaty rock troll food was. Barb always asked her preferences before she came over or brought food over. Sitting alongside Thrash as he regaled Poppy’s ‘defeat and taming’ of the vicious lava-mole, Poppy poked her chili with her spoon. Poppy had already drank all her water, but the heat didn’t leave her tongue. Maybe if she fanned her tongue?

King Thrash didn’t pay Poppy fanning herself any attention. As the rock king was animated in his storytelling of the lava mole, Poppy wanted to interject on the more blown out of proportion parts but couldn’t help but get dragged into his re-telling to a group of rockers in the castle’s dining hall. 

If any time was a good time to harness her inner Branch, Poppy felt now was that time. Before King Thrash started telling the story again.

Clearing her throat and hoping she wasn’t sweating too profusely from the spice Poppy tapped the King’s shoulder, beginning, “Hey King Thrash I-”

Poppy didn’t get far in her sentence as she was encased in the most intense side hug of her life.

Either Barb’s been holding out on her during hugs or King Thrash is just that strong.

“Ah! There’s the troll of the hour! How you holding up Pinkie, Rock City being good to ya?” Thrash bellowed, a laugh trickled out of the troll that Poppy could feel throughout her frame. Like a speaker turned way too high on bass.

Poppy thumped the King’s arm as his grip somehow tightened, Thrash startled at Poppy’s struggling face with an, ‘oh sorry.’ Setting the troll down. 

Poppy breathed, crowing “S’okay, my friend Biggie gets caught up in hugs too. Anyways, King Thrash-”

“Please, Pinkie, call me Thrash.”

“Thrash,” Poppy corrected, “I’m a little far from home and I was hoping you can help me get back.”

Scratching his head Thrash wore a contemplative look, “Oh! Where you from? Garage district?”

“Uh, no.”

“Amp Alleys?”

“No.” 

“Anarch Mines?”

“Nu-uh.”

“Not judging- Metalhead Forest?” Thrash tempted, hesitance flashing in his face.

“Metalhead For-what!” Poppy shook her head. “No, no, no. I’m not from Rock City Thrash.” 

“Thank goodness, those guys are weir...” Thrash trailed off as he took in Poppy’s blank stare and gave a cough. “Nevermind. So where _are_ you from then?”

_From the future,_ Poppy really wanted to say but she could practically hear Branch in that moment. Logic-ifying it. How do you prove that you're from the future? Of course without spoiling that a king’s daughter-who probably doesn’t exist yet- nearly takes over the world? Without somehow screwing up said future you’re from? 

“Uhhhh...somewhere else. Heh.” Poppy chuckled, hands twining together than unknoting. 

“Ha! That’s a classic Pinkie!” Thrash threw his head back with a laugh. Poppy nearly fell over as he patted her back. “Whoo, Willow would hate that joke!” Thrash wiped a tear out of his eye. “Oh! I haven’t introduced you to my family yet, come on!” 

Willow? Family? Poppy wasn’t ready for the weirdness of seeing a baby Barb! Or the cuteness. But mostly the weirdness.

Though Poppy didn’t get a choice as Thrash tugged Poppy along. Exiting the din of the dining hall, Thrash took too many lefts and rights for Poppy to keep up with. Before Poppy’s head started spinning from the speed and countless turns, Thrash stopped in front of a balcony. Two silhouettes standing out on it, facing the night sky. 

One adult troll silhouette and a trolling in their arms pointing at the sky. 

A gasp filled the air as a sharp squeaky voice fell on Poppy’s ears. “Dad’s here!” Then a navy blue blur crashed into Thrash.

“Willow! How’s my Prickly-Pear Princess doing?” Thrash began tickling the trolling as she climbed the king, giggling until she settled on top of Thrash’s hair. Poppy saw the patch engulfed overalls and bangs that covered the trolling’s eyes. 

“Stellar!” Willow declared, throwing up tiny horns. 

“Stellars the mood is it now, Rosie?” Thrash turned to the adult troll, purple skin and teal hair in a wide messy bun. Wearing a zipped red jacket and denim skirt, she pecked Thrash on the cheek. Her eyes were soft and reminded Poppy of someone. 

“Yes, well it is now, now that-” Rosie’s growing smile paused as she turned to see Poppy.

Thrash followed Rosie’s gaze, “Oh, yeah!” Thrash tugged Willow out of his air and placed her under his arm, walking Rosie over to Poppy. “Rosie, Willow, this is Pinkie! The troll who defeated the lava-mole and saved me!” Giving Willow a light noogie, Thrash introduced “This little stinker here is Princess Willow. And,” pulling Rosie closer to him with a nuzzle, “is my lovely wife and Queen of Rock City, Rosie!”

Where was Barb, where was Barb, where was Barb? 

Barb never said anything about a sister! Or a Queen Rosie!

“Nice to meet you!” Poppy plastered a smile onto her face and outstretched her hand. Hoping that the nervousness didn’t leak into her voice.

Poppy yelped as Willow leaped from under Thrash’s arm onto Poppy’s arm. Climbing all the way up the pink troll’s arm until she was face to face with Poppy. Studying her intently, or Poppy thought she was as the trolling leaned into Poppy’s face. Willow cocked her head to the side, innocently stating, “Why are you so pink?”

“Willow, Sugarbones, we don’t ask those questions to other trolls.” Rosie chastised, nabbing Willow out of Poppy’s face and taking Poppy’s still outstretched arm in a handshake. “Thank you for saving my husband and sorry about Willow.”

“Ah it’s okay! Kids from Pop-Village say stuff like that to me all the time.” Poppy stated, dismissing Willow’s comment with a shrug.

“Wha’s Pop-Village?” Willow asked.

Poppy clamped her hand over her mouth. Her inner Branch facepalmed.

Thrash and Willow shared a look.

“Pinkie, Pop trolls haven’t settled in the last thirty years.” Rosie said slowly.

Thrash gave Poppy a stern look, “Where are you from? For real this time.” 

With a resigned sigh, Poppy went to tell Thrash the truth.

“Not here- for real! I’m-it’s hard to explain-I’m actually from-Aaagh!” Poppy clutched her chest as a sharp pain stabbed through her torso, a thrum rocked Poppy’s body. 

“Whoa! Is she okay Dad? Why is her chest doing that?” Willow pondered, peeking from behind Rosie

Looking at her chest Poppy see’s her heart shining through. But it wasn’t a solid pink, it flickered in then out, pink to fierce red. Back and forth, seeming to stutter and jolt. 

“What is hap-Argh!”

Another stabbing of pain had Poppy hugging herself as she doubled over. Somebody was holding her up and patting her back. Saying, ‘it’s okay’ and ‘hold on.’ 

“-Hook, Drive! Take Willow to her room! We’ll get her to Weezer!” Thrash shouted.

Stars pricked the edges of Poppy’s vision. A throbbing pain settled in her core and the floor was no longer under her.

“Where’s Barb?” Then darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Critique, Comments, and Feedback are welcomed!
> 
> The songs used this time around are 
> 
> Thunderstruck by AC/DC  
> Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel


	3. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposition. Elderly exposition.

Poppy didn’t like the trend she was making for herself as of late. Passing out in a random place, waking up in a random place. Well less party related passing outs in unfamiliar places anyway.

Waking up on a lumpy bed wasn’t too new. 

Though Poppy waking to a random elderly troll listening to her chest was new. The elder troll wore glasses with swirls and to many layers of black and white leather over her already hunched form. Her mass of white hair spiked this way and that way, contrasting her red wrinkled skin. 

“Hello, hey, who-” Poppy started, sitting up. A wrinkle claw pinched Poppy’s mouth close. 

“Ah-ah, no talking! No trying to say your name! No exposition to me about you! I spent way too long trying to calm your life pumper down. I’m good, but there’s only so many tricks in this old thing,” the troll crooned, tapping her head with a cane. “Names Weezer. This right here is the A-rockatherey.” Unpinching Poppy’s mouth Weezer hopped off the bed as she gestured around the room. All types of clutter filled the space, most of it being rock related as sprawls of patches dusted the floor and wires and plugs filled the ceiling. Chaotic strobe lights and candles were peppered around, some in corners others in speaker dens, acting as the only things lighting the dark room.

Poppy watched as Weezer wordlessly pulled out a stool, the object screeching in protest as Weezer pulled it to a stop, patting it as Weezer looked to Poppy. “Sit if you want answers, stare if you want to catch a bug or two.”

“Weezer, where's Thrash and Rosie?”

“Not being annoying and bothering me as I fixed your harmony.”

“Fix my harmony? Wait what’s wrong with me and my harmony?!”

Weezer tapped the stool rapidly with a tak tak. “Sit or stare Little Miss Pink?” The elder rocker intoned in a sing-song voice Poppy would have used when trying to bargain with a trolling. 

Poppy made her way over to the stool and sat. Fingertips ghosting over her chest as she watched Weezer who waved her cane at Poppy, barking “No questions until after.”

Weezer then pulled down a board from the closest wall. An unlit neon patch lining it. The lights of the room dimmed, patch flickering to life. The patch was a neon pink heart, lined with rainbow colored strings on the inside. Lights humming as the colors flickered in and out together in a silent heart beat. 

“In every troll’s heart there are a collection of strings, heart-strings to be exact. Each string is a genre. Despite the type of troll- rock, pop, classical - they need all their strings…” The pink string lining the inside of the neon heart began to glow more intensely than the other strings as the group continued their flickering. “Even if some are more exercised than others. Your string set, Little Miss Pink Thing, isn’t attuned. Thrown out of harmony.” The pink string flickered out of beat from the rest of the strings on the neon heart. An infinite lag. Until the patch’s lights as a whole flickered out with a crack, hiss, and pop. “Any questions?”

The room came back to it’s normal spread of chaotic light. Poppy raised her hand.

“Yeah, pink one, frontrow.” 

“Um yeah, how exactly? I’d think I remember somebody plucking at my chest.” Poppy said perplexed as she poked her chest experimentally.

Weezer waddled towards Poppy. “It’s not as simple as popping you open and rearranging your pumper there.” Weezer tapped her cane against Poppy’s chest. “Someone is playing in magic beyond their zen. To throw a troll so thoroughly out of harmony means nothing good.”

“That doesn’t explain how or why! Maybe it was a mistake. I mess with magic stuff all the time back home-on accident of course.” 

“Mistake? Ha! Can you even say your name? Your actual given name that your nan gave on your hatching.” 

Poppy opened then closed her mouth, trying to voice her name. Nothing. Looking to the side, saying dejectedly, “...No.”

“Not to mention you can’t speak the Truths of Truths of how you got here. That- right there is no accident or little slip with the cauldron or screw up with a ruby. To answer your question Little Miss Pink Thing, to throw your harmony so out of whack, somebody took your name and sealed your lips on the And-How.“

“But what can anybody even do with a name? It’s just a word.” 

Weezer’s hair puffed and frizzed out as the troll snapped, jabbing a crinkled talon at Poppy. “ Your little ‘word’ has stranded you and has disrupted your harmony! A name has power ! The question here is what can’t they do with a name. And she says ‘what can anybody do with a name’-what can anybody do with a name! Have you not been listening girl?!”

“If they only took my name, why am I stranded here and not home? Magic doesn’t believe in long distance communication?” Poppy tried to joke with a hesitant smile, trying to calm the sporadic older troll.

“Did anybody ask to use your name?” Weezer queried as she turned away from Poppy, examining a broken vial full of mystery liquid and guitar picks. Then chugging the vial.

“Uhhhm, no. Not really.” Poppy affirmed with a head shake. 

“There it is.” Poppy flinched back as the elder troll stabbed the air in front of Poppy’s face with her cane. “Magic you see Little Miss Pink Thing, is a trade. This” Weezer chucked her cane from left to right “for that. Let’s say you did let someone use your name, after them asking oh so nicely. You would be the person deciding how much power is used for your name. How much bang for your chord pluck. That would be consent for little magic but magic still.”

“Wait, if magic is a trade. Isn’t the person who did this supposed to be getting the wrong end of the stick here? Whoever took my magic-They- They took too much, it’s the fair thing!” Poppy reasoned, clenching her fist to her chest.

“I said magic is a trade. I never said a fair one.” Weezer remarked with a bitter chuckle. “What this magic user has done is something beyond greedy and selfish to you. But beneficial to themself. Lending a name doesn’t not usually affect someone’s ability to say it, that is the norm. But to take someone’s name entirely...well your being here is no accident. Throwing you out of harmony is what allowed them to get your name in the first place.”

“Is there a way to undo this? To say my name, to get home!” Poppy pressed, the stool wobbling as she leaned forward.

“You saying your name is synonymous with going back to where you're from.”

The panic slowly flushed itself from Poppy’s face as a confidence replaced it.

“Oh. Okay, so all I have to do is find this name stealer and get my name back!” Poppy concluded with a clap, jumping off the stool. “Classic quest, I do those like every other week. Piece of cake.” Puffing her chest and pep in her step Poppy made her way to the door. Opening it. 

Weezer intercepted Poppy and the door. Slamming it shut with a bang, blocking Poppy. “Whoa there!” 

“Hey! You just said if I get my name back, I go home!” Poppy protested.

“Yes and it’s true. But...”

Butts are made for sitting and doors are for leaving is what Poppy wanted to say but settled for crossing her arms in annoyance.

“But?” Poppy tempted, leaning in.

“ But it’s a contract, the taking your name and all.” 

“It’s not a contract I agreed to though. It was a sneaky, underhand contract actually.” Poppy huffed.. 

“A contract is a contract, no matter how unwilling the contract was made. Magic is absolute, no backsies. Even if the clod who made the deal wanted to give you your name back, infinitum. The dummy wouldn’t be able to.”

Poppy’s hands flew to grip her head, eyes widening. “So I’m stuck here!” 

Weezer shook her head, white hair rattling and bonked Poppy on the head with her cane. “No! Listen, what does every contract have?”

“Ow.” Rubbing her head, Poppy guessed. “Words..? No wait-fancy handwriting!”

“Terms of agreement. That’s right.” Weezer deadpans.

“Terms I didn’t agree with.” Poppy corrected with a pout.

Weezer shrugged as she paced around Poppy. “As you’ve said. But a contract needs terms to be solidified in magic, the trade for your voice was your displacement and disharmony. To go home you need to be able to say your voice but you can’t because of your disharmony.”

Poppy tilted her head, trying to track the old troll’s circling. “What are you suggesting?”

Weezer pulled Poppy to her eye level, brow furrowed and jaw crooked. “Something easy to say but hard to do . Get your harmony, get your voice, then get back home. Nothing grand, nothing easy.” 

Trying to lean out from the old rock troll’s vice grip on her collar, Poppy asked. “What’s so hard about getting my harmony back?” 

Weezer unceremoniously let Poppy go, watching her tumble onto her back with an oof.

Weezer hovered over Poppy. “To achieve inner-harmony, you have to reconnect yourself. Put the pieces back together and know who you are. Nobody can do that for you. Magic or no magic.” A serious look settled on the old rocker. “It is a task that can only be completed by you and you alone.” 

Alone? Poppy felt her face twist into a frown. Pushing herself back up, Poppy whispered as she looked to Weezer, “By myself? Why?” 

Weezer shielded her face from Poppy, waving her cane at the pink troll, saying with a cry “Agh, puppy eyes!! The conclusion! You have to come to the conclusion of inner harmony by yourself! That’s what I meant! How you get there is up to you, take a bosom buddy, heck, the entire kingdom for all I care! Just put the eyes away!” The elder troll had backed into a nearby corner of clutter, settling into a hiss aimed in Poppy’s direction.

Poppy perked up, “How do I reconnect with myself exactly?”

Weezer’s dampered and disgruntled answer drifted from the clutter corner. “It’s your disharmony. How you go about it and what bits need to be remedied aren’t my decision to make or place to say Little Miss Pink Thing. Your harmony, your roots. Not my problem.” The elder troll’s head popped out of the pile of junk, wearing a sour expression. “Now that you have your little venture quest, shoo.” Poppy felt herself getting rushed to the door. “Crash course reminder! Don’t go trying to say your name or where you’re from. Get your harmony, get your name-”

“Get home!” Poppy finished with a grin, then the door clicked behind her. A muffled ‘That’s right’ followed from behind in addition to a series of clicking and clasping of locks. 

Huh. If Poppy had the chance when she got back home she should introduce Weezer and Branch.

“Have a nice day! Don’t come back!” 

The hall was empty and Poppy was by herself. Silence.

“Roots?” Poppy quietly echoed to herself, blinking as she meandered down the hall. Face screwing together in thought. What were Poppy’s roots? What was her inner harmony?

Poppy’s first thought was back to Barb’s World Tour, strings shattered at the end. Colors of all trolls greyed and gone. Then, their hearts and songs had been remembered. Poppy recalled the pink of all the pop trolls and herself, humming and joining together. 

Pop music. That was it!

Poppy needed to find pop-trolls! Then she’d reconnect with herself and get her harmony back!

“Pinkie gotta say it, you look alot like me when, in Rosie’s words, I’m ‘scheming another plot.’ I personally call it inventive planning.” 

Poppy whirled around to see King Thrash leaning into the wall with a smile playing on his face. 

Poppy deflated a bit recalling the previous night’s memory. “Oh, King Thrash I’m sorry for last night! I didn’t mean to-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa chill now lil miss. It’s s’okay.” Thrash calmed, closing the distance between him and Poppy. Setting a hand on the pink troll’s shoulder. “Pinkie,no need to spaz. Weezer explained your whole thing to me. You weren’t kidding when you said you’re from somewhere anyways.”

“So you’re not mad?”

Thrash tsked, “Nah. Sides, you saved my life from being mole mulch, I still owe you one. Anything I can do to help Pinkie?”

“Actually, Thrash, there is a favor you can do for me.” Poppy felt her grin grow. 

Then Poppy’s stomach growled, making Poppy spread a sheepish grin as she flushed. 

Thrash gave a throaty chuckle. “I think favors can follow breakfast Wild Thing. To the dining hall?”

With an eagerness filling her Poppy agreed with a chirp, “To the dining hall!” Thrash threw horns into the air in reply and led the way.

Home felt close as an ear to ear smile made its way to Poppy’s face and pep filled her step.

Poppy tried Thrash's latest nickname in her head. Wild Thing. Why’d that name feel so familiar.


	4. In Between Things, a Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Poppy, Princess Willow. Princess Willow, Queen Pinkie.

Patience was a virtue, to everyone else because they could afford it to be. But to a  _ ruler _ , patience was a tool and an essential. That's what Dad had told Poppy at one point while she was growing up. And Poppy tried to use and remember that tool specifically in her Problem Solving Toolbox.

But. 

Poppy’s mental toolbox couldn’t solve the most recent bad news. Well, bad news wasn’t  _ too  _ accurate a thing to call it. Just not the most ideal news Poppy was hoping for at the time.

Thrash and Rosie had given Poppy an audience right there at their personal dining table, after a very crunchy breakfast of what, the rulers agreed to help her locate the pop trolls. Poppy had vaulted into a string of thank yous, all grins. She’d be back home in no time! Oh my gosh how was Poppy supposed to scrapbook this! It was Rosie who laid a hand on Poppy’s and brought her out of the haze of impromptu celebration with a sad expression. Explaining that it would take at least two weeks to get a solid trail and scout out the elusive pop tribe. Poppy could only blink and say ‘oh.’ Setting back into her seat, quietly processing the rock queen’s words. 

Poppy threw on a weak smile after that point, she didn’t need the two rulers worrying for her. Giving nods and ‘it’s okay I understand’ when they asked her how she was. They had Poppy escorted to a guest room, less cozy and much sparser then the room Barb had provided her. Poppy had collapsed into the lumpy mattress once her escort left, mulling over the news as she rolled into a scratchy blanket cocoon. With the additional thought of the guest room not helping Poppy that much. The flat grey outside didn’t really complement the dark grey and burgundy of the room; nothing like her pod.

Two weeks. 

It would be two weeks plus the two days Poppy was already in the past, before she got home. Branch was gonna flip and stop everything to find her, right after Barb flipped and checked every corner to find her. And when nobody found her…

Poppy hugged herself tighter, her hug-time bracelet flashing as it went off. Feeling the material of the bracelet, Poppy remembered Cooper helped make them with his fur. Further reminding Poppy of Cooper’s coronation/celebration that she’d miss or would either be put on hold for everyone looking for her. 

It was going to be okay and she was going home once they found the pop trolls. 

So why did Poppy feel like this.

Maybe because hug time wasn’t supposed to be a lonely time.

Poppy would love anyone’s hug at this moment.

Biggie’s loving death grip. Smidge’s soft but tight embrace. Guy’s glitter squeeze. Cooper’s fuzzy clasp. Satin and Chenille’s double hug bubble. Suki’s lax pat, rub hugs. Branch and Barb’s rough hugs would be heavenly, despite not being the best hugs they were great because they tried with Poppy.

And right now they weren’t with Poppy, and she wasn’t with them. Poppy felt something wet roll down her cheek.

“Uhhh, so you’re not a rock troll?” A voice squeaked.

Poppy stiffened and whipped around towards the door, wide open with a navy blue trolling in the doorway, gripping the straps of her overalls like a troll on a mission. Face scrunched into a serious and thoughtful expression behind her bangs. 

“Willow! What are you doing here?” Poppy asked, blinking her eyes quicker than when she was in Smidge’s Blinking Party. Everything was fine, it was fine. 

Willow gave Poppy a look like she asked the most obvious question. “Getting answers, duh.” The royal trolling shook off her flat look and began a march to Poppy’s bed. Clambering onto the bed-with a bit of help from Poppy-to face the pink troll on her tippy toes, declaring as she puffed her tiny chest and hair out-Poppy so had to ask Barb if all rock trolls could do that. “Listen up not rock troll-Pinkie,  _ if that’s even your name _ ! I’m Princess Willow! Of the Rock Trolls! And if anybody’s asking questions, it’ll be me. Got it?” A red eye peaked out from behind Willow’s bangs, scrutinizing Poppy.

Poppy felt her frown crack at the edges, turning upwards. Leave it to trollings to be consistent across trollkind. Which Poppy was more than grateful for!

Poppy couldn’t help the smile on her face, saluting as she put on a stern facade. Nodding in understanding. “Got it loud and clear, Princess Willow of the Rock Trolls is the only one asking questions here.”

“And you better wa- wait, what?” Willow sputtered as she looked at Poppy before pulling herself back together. Coughing into her fist, Willow continued as she marched back and forth. “Yes, yeah,  _ of course _ you understand. Anyways, questions.” Willow plopped into a criss cross in front of Poppy, curiosity lining her face-at least the lower half. “Soooooo, you’re  _ not  _ a rock troll?”

“Nope, I’m a pop troll. Born and raised.” Poppy answered, popping the p in nope.

“What’s..what was that like?”

Poppy blinked, she was used to more specific questions from non-pop trollings. Like, do you eat glitter? Why are you so pink? How can you walk on two legs without falling over? How come your hair can do that? 

But not what was being a pop troll like?

What  _ was  _ being a pop troll like?

Poppy tapped her chin, humming. “Well for starters, lot’s of scrapbooking and glitter for sure.” Poppy continued “Aaaand, scrapbooking parties and partying and singing.” Poppy thought back to how Branch had to dart back to Pop Village just as she was leaving for Barb’s. A song thumping all the way to the catterbus, cheers following. A smile broadening as Poppy recalled Branch running and yelling out precautions to the partying trolls. “ _ Definitely _ lots of parties and singing.”

“Scrapbooking?” Willow made a face like she’d just eaten a raisin cookie she thought was chocolate chip. 

“ _ Scrapbooking _ , you know construction paper and fuzzy pipes? Crafts?” Poppy tested, Willow only cocked her head. Rock trolls  _ had  _ to have crafts. At least for trollings. Well they probably did, just sharper and dangerous by pop troll standards.

“Nu-uh, never heard it.” Willow shook her head, her hair was incredibly scratchy Poppy decided each time it hit her. “Pop trolls. Singing.” The princess prodded, bouncing slightly.

“I think I understand those words better separately Princess Willow.”

Willow huffed and craned her up, like the ceiling will tell her, her question. “Just, what kind of singing? What kind of music is pop?”

“Easy, upbeat pep songs that you can shake to and join with anytime of anyday.”

Willow gave Poppy a look, opening then closing her mouth before finally saying, “Dad says music is what you make of it. Rock or no rock. Is that what pop is to you?” 

Willow said the question too casually and innocently for Poppy not to get whiplash from it. Deep philosophical questions weren’t usually sent Poppy’s way, at least not from royal ten year olds.

“How about you come back to me later for that question Princess Willow. I don’t mind questions, just maybe a tad bit less...close.” 

Willow blew a raspberry. “Fine.” The blue trollings mushed her hands to her face. “What did you do before you came to rock city?”

“I led Pop Village. And I’m going to lead some more when I get back, I’m queen afterall.”

“Oh” Willow’s form went from lax to straight. Sliding off Poppy’s bed with a moan, cradling her face. Willow continued. “I don’t think my mom would like it if I was bossing another queen around.” Willow gripped the bed and faced Poppy with a panicked eye. “Sorry, please don’t tell her!Mom’s gonna give me the look and be so disappointed and, and-”

“Hey, hey Princess Willow it’s okay. Consider my lips sealed like a padlocked zipper.” Poppy comforted, sliding off the bed to sit next to the crouched Princess. “I get it, you’re curious. I know I was when I learned about other genres and trolls.”

Willow had sunk into a ball of what Poppy guessed was shame on the floor. 

What would cheer up a trolling? Scrapbooking? No. Glitter? No.

What was a universal concept every trolling enjoyed. Fun and…

Lightbulb.

“I don’t know about you...but singing usually cheers me up and reminds me everything's okay. And if  _ you’re  _ okay with it I can show you some pop music and you can show me some rock. How abou-” Poppy didn’t get to finish her bargain as a stream of thank you and yeses erupted from Willow, before she ripped Poppy from where she sat out into the halls of the castle. 

Wow, were all rock trolls just this strong? 

Willow pulled Poppy this way and that, all teeth with excitement before coming to a stop at a room full of instruments, themed to a rock troll’s taste, a stage across from the door. Guitars shaped into axes, bats, bulls, and even swords somehow. Not to mention the wicked and gleaming brass collection. Piles of electronics, keyboards and gizmos Poppy didn’t even have a name for. Then there were mountains of drum sets and pieces strewn about. To top the room off was a giant red neon sign above the entire instrument collection reading ‘Rock til You Roll!’ with a guitar underlying it. 

Willow raced to one point of the room to the next, tinkering and pulling at wires and switches. Until a “Got it” rang from under a set of guitars, Willow popping to the surface and plugging a cord into another, suddenly a burst of rainbow stream strobe lights slid and danced across the room. Poppy picked up the least pointy and hazardous guitar, beginning to strum a tune with Willow backing her with a swell of drums. 

Then entered the fun. 

Where Willow wasn’t sure to continue, Poppy picked up with a peppy beat and where Poppy lagged Willow was there to slam out a heavy solo. Until they were both finishing each other’s part and competing with the other. When Poppy raced ahead, Willow followed with something stronger. They were a hurricane of energy and music. They played and played, losing track of anything but the collision of music at hand; a chaotic harmony Poppy welcomed. Singing until both their songs devolved into heavy breathing and had no more song to give.

Poppy broke the silence with a whoop. “Oh my gosh Willow! Who taught you to play like that!? That-that was,” Poppy exclaimed. Racing over to the goliath of a drum set where Willow sat; expression unreadable and cast down. Poppy paused, brow scrunching in concern. “Willow?” 

“That was,” The trolling vaulted off the drum set mountain, towards Poppy, landing in the pink troll’s arms. “METAL!” Willow roared with her tiny voice, horns up! Fangs exposed in a smile that Poppy couldn’t help but echo, albeit with less sharp teeth. 

A beat of silence.

Then Poppy snrked, letting out a laugh. And so did Willow, it wasn't long both trolls began melting into a laughing fit hug pile.

And for that moment, Poppy didn’t feel so lonely and nothing felt that complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really use a song but was inspired by Don't Stop by Red Hot Chili Peppers for the duet between Willow and Poppy.
> 
> This chapter I wanted to emphasize that Poppy doesn't stomp out her negatives but doesn't really like experiencing them. Though Poppy has trollings and music down to a science(sorta) and are familiar thus comforting.


	5. Other Queen; New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy and Rosie do a lunch session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writers block nearly had me! But do enjoy the fluff while it's here!

Poppy didn’t want to say Barb was holding out on her in terms of activities in Rock City, because Poppy valued and loved any time or activity spent with her friends. Though the pop queen would be lying if she didn’t feel a bit held out on, cause in one week Thrash and Willow had shown her the most fun hot spots in The Fortress and Rock City.

Like Willow had taken Poppy to the highest peak of The Fortress. Sitting on the creaky-est and spiky balcony she’d ever sat on with the trolling in hushed eagerness unsure of what was to come. Poppy had gasped at the swarm of bats that blotted out the grey smokey orange afternoon sky, a haunting song accompanying their flight. The rock princess also took Poppy out to the courtyard, blooming with dark reds and dusty purple flora that looked as posed and pointy as the rest of Rock City-which was very. Whilst also home to menacing plant life, Willow and Poppy had spotted the widest variety of fauna vehicles. From bug bikes to stage scorpions to eel skis, and just so many, many more. They had spent that day ooing, awing, petting until they accidentally spooked the beasts into flight near the end. 

Then Thrash had shown Poppy geyser bounding. Or at the time Thrash had bounded out of the angler bus, Willow and Rosie following after-problem being the angler bus was in mid flight over a hole dotted landscape. Before Poppy could panic, Thrash and his family had popped back into Poppy’s line of sight then out; then back up. With a breath in, Poppy bounced out of the bus. An intense eruption of hot air cushioned Poppy. Up and down, this and that way, making Poppy feel like she was flying. Even if it was temporary it was a type of exhilarating Poppy hadn’t experienced before. Or fun she’d never had known before, once Willow threw in some aerial games. 

And boy did Thrash  _ and  _ Willow combined make the first week fly by! 

There was just a thought that persisted. Through and after all the fun times with Willow and Thrash. Specifically a troll shaped thought, Queen Rosie. 

Poppy talked to the rock queen but never really spent time with her. That wasn’t the only reason why the rock queen was on her mind though-even though that should be enough as Poppy had gotten to know  _ all  _ The Fortress’ staff. Queen Rosie was just so, so..quiet? No. Distant? That wasn’t right either. 

Rosie didn’t feel apathetic the same way other rock trolls felt at times. In fact she seemed very present and in the moment, joining in on her other two family member’s out there stunts-with considerably less intensity... 

Not to mention she didn’t look at Poppy with confusion and a bit insulted or concerned the way Thrash and other rock trolls had when she was grinning widely in the early morning. All the older queen had done since that morning and continued doing was returning a soft smile of her own and a ‘good morning Pinkie’, going about the rest of her day. It wasn’t that rock trolls or Thrash didn't welcome her, just that they weren’t used to Poppy and pop troll habits yet the way they were in the future. Or at least the rock trolls back home were getting used to it, it was only six months since Barb’s World Tour and rockers still stared-but they were working on it. 

Still, Queen Rosie was on Poppy’s mind, and the pop queen felt the need to get to know her. Afterall Poppy shouldn’t stop establishing harmony between rulers just because she was flung back in time, this was part of her job description as a queen. Also a bit of friend making on Poppy’s end. Not to mention she looked  _ so  _ familiar. Or at least reminded Poppy of someone. Who? Poppy wasn’t sure yet. 

Fortunately the pop queen didn’t have to wait long to hatch her Surprise-Spend-Time-With Queen Rosie-Plot. Well how much of a surprise the whole thing was, was still up in the air since it involved an invitation. Constructed of denim and fuzz, sadly rock trolls were very anti-paper cut or very pro-denim. Poppy made do though, like any master scrapbooker would. The invitation had instructed a balcony visit, at lunch. 

All of it was coming together once Rosie sat across from Poppy to a softer lunch than she was probably used to. With considerably more fruits too, to boot.

“I have to thank you Pinkie.” Rosie commented as she picked up a dry fig, popping it in her mouth. “I love Garage District’s leaders, but between you and me I don’t think I could take another lunch with drywall peppering my food.” The rock queen said between chewing.

Poppy began nibbling at her sandwich, shrugging “No problem! I actually have been wanting to talk to you personally Queen Rosie!”

“Hm, me?” Rosie hummed, ears twitching up.

“Yeah!” 

“What about me do you want to know?”

“Well I-uh.” Poppy’s eyes searched the sky for the right response, until Rosie slid back into her view. “Hm. I  _ want  _ to say everything  _ but  _ that isn’t good lunch etiquette.” Poppy smiled with a nod. “I guess enough to go from sharing castle buddies to being friends who share a castle pals.” Clasping her hands together as she looked to the older

Rosie tapped her chin thoughtfully. “How about you tell me something about yourself and I tell you something about me, it is the fair thing.”

“Deal!” Poppy nearly jumped out of her chair. “So what do you like to do?” Poppy said quietly as she settled back into place. 

“Oh you know Pinkie, things. Of a queenly nature.” Rosie spoke, a grin dancing on the edge of her thoughtful expression before breaking into a playful smile.

Chuckling Poppy grinned, “That’s a classic, Cloudguy would love that one! I should tell him about it tomorrow Branch is s _ o _ -oh yeah. Never mind.” Poppy shook herself of panging thoughts. Stretching her smile back to life, Poppy continued. “I should say what I like I guess, I like scrapbooking, decorating, hosting parties-” Poppy stopped mid listing as she felt a purple hand patting her own.

“Pinkie, do you mind if I ask you a question now.” 

“I don’t mind at all, we did just establish questions were this lunch’s thing.” 

“Why did you really invite me to this lunch?”

Poppy made a face. “To talk to you Queen Rosie! To get to know you better!” What other reason did Poppy have to plan this lunch.

“And you wanted to know me better  _ because _ ?”

“Because!” Poppy exclaimed, but stopped for a second as the rock queen arched a brow. As if saying ‘and what else.’ “Because...you’re...you remind me of someone.” Poppy fidgeted with her hug time bracelet as she cast her eyes to the side. “And, you’re not like Willow or Thrash. Or any rock troll really, not in a bad way of course. I wanted to get to know you Queen Rosie. Also to kinda make up for not hanging out.”

“Rosie.”

“Huh.” Poppy turned to the rock queen, who still wore a warm smile despite Poppy’s explanation.

“Just Rosie, it’s what my friends call me.” Rosie sipped her mug. Shaking her head as she explained herself “I hope this didn’t come off as an interrogation or too pressing, I’m sorry if it did. I just can’t stand someone saying something without saying it-people start looking like lava balloons with too much inside. Ready to pop.”

“Sorry Rosie, I usually go into new friendships with just ‘let’s be friends’ not anything like..info digging or curiosity mending. My bad.” Poppy felt herself cringe at info digging. “Not a good start to castle pals huh?” She chuckled nervously as she rubbed her arm.

Rosie batted her hand, dismissing the pink troll’s concerns. “There’s nothing to be sorry about Pinkie. You’re just curious, I would be too if I met someone who I remember but don’t know.” It wasn’t a smug smile but Poppy squinted at the rock queen’s quirked eyes. “Did I guess right with your mystery troll reminder problem?”

“...” Poppy’s face smeared from blank to a bright determination “You have got to show me how you do that! Is that a secret queen thing I wasn’t taught?”

“Oh, it’s an anybody skill thing actually. And it comes with time.” Rosie thrummed her fingers against the table before leaning towards Poppy, as if to share a secret. “Pinkie, do you want to know more about me still?”

“Yes, I really want to pave the mutual friendship trail with you Rosie!” Poppy careened towards Rosie eagerly.

“You are a queen, aren’t you Pinkie?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well there's an old saying, know a kingdom, know a queen. And I’ve got some responsibilities left to take care of. Care to join?”

Poppy wanted to say something about the sky dimming from the dim light of day to night but watched Rosie push herself from the table and offer a hand to Poppy with a welcoming smile and a sparkle in her eye. How was Poppy supposed to decline an opportunity of friendship exploration?

A pink hand met Rosie’s, mildly calloused, hand as Poppy’s face split into a grin. Trick question, Poppy never turned friendship away. 

Ever since coming to the past Rock City it was stressed to Poppy that nobody could know that she was a pop troll; despite Thrash having the pop tribe scouted. It was never said that she couldn’t go into Rock City outside the Fortress but the royal rock family mostly escorted her via angler bus or bug bike to avoid too many eyes and questions. 

* * *

So when Rosie took Poppy down back ways and dark tunnels into the simmering central of Rock City she couldn't help but have her breath taken away at the partially dimmed city. Buildings she was told were ampartments were beginning to light up with silhouettes and bounding bodies, as well as towering structures home to rock trolls began to blink rays of warm colors. But no noise seemed to leak out, not even a far away thump of bass. The entire city danced in a quiet celebration. Rosie had taken them to a slab of concrete, dubbed a bench by the trolls of Rock City. Though all Poppy could do was watch the countless separate-no doubt rock- songs rage on silently apart from one another but together nonetheless. 

“Why are the buildings so quiet?” Poppy finally asked. Poppy was expecting a bit more noise with rock trolls but decided not to say that.

“Soundproof walls, rocking is all well and good. But crying trollings and grumpy elder rockers, not so well and good.”

Poppy didn’t find anything to say after that but the comfortable silence with Rosie didn’t need to be filled as they soaked in the lights of the buildings.

“Do you want to know my hardest responsibility Pinkie?” Rosie's voice was low as she looked off, warmness cooling in her eyes.

“Of course Rosie.” Poppy said softly. It was an unexpected turn in mood but heavy moments were part of the friendship process sometimes and Poppy welcomed it with open ears.

“Remembering.” Poppy felt her face knit into confusion as she looked to the older queen. Rosie kept a lot of the paperwork and complex stuff together when it came to Thrash from what Poppy had seen, what could be so hard about remembering. “It’s easy to forget things when you’re not in charge. Even easier when you are in charge. This all,” Rosie gestured to the lit up buildings towering over them flashing with silenced humming life, “it’s a reminder.”

Poppy cocked her head as she glued her eyes to the lively city. “A reminder for what?” 

“Harmony.” 

Poppy screwed her face. “I’m sorry I don’t think I’m getting it Rosie. I’m not all that good with metaphors.” Poppy apologized, looking to the still queen with wide eyes.

When Rosie began to speak she spoke to Poppy but her eyes were aimed up but not on anything Poppy could see. “It’s not in your face most of the time, the harmony of a thing-even rock genres. All those differences. It’s easy to think that just one thing can make something have harmony, when that couldn’t be farther from true.” 

“I couldn’t agree more! Harmony is just this crazy amazing potluck of different and new!” Poppy cheered with a hand flap, remembering her first realization and song with all the other tribes.

“New, especially when you forget.” Rosie said aside, though Poppy didn’t know what she meant. Rosie patted Poppy shoulder, eyes twinkling. “But I think that’s enough queenly wisdom for the night. I think we’re overdue for some entertainment.” Rosie reached behind the bench before a click resounded. “Also known as the fun part of the night if you ask me.” Poppy’s eyes lit up and gasped left her as the cracks on Rock City’s floor began to spiral and glow with color, echoing into a silent spread of light from where Rosie and Poppy sat. Soon lanterns and lights far off began to glow. 

“Whoa. Just, whoa. This.. is amazing.” Poppy gaped. Eyes swimming and taking in the colors. She never knew that the clunky and sharp Rock City could be so...awe inspiring.

“Thank Queen Major and her subjects at the time for the sight.” Rosie informed, getting up “Care to tour the city with me Pinkie? Through the lens of a queen’s duty of course.” Rosie added with a mock proper tone bowing then turning to walk. Poppy could only wordlessly nod as she followed Rosie away from the bench and into the lake of lights that was Rock City’s night. 

Queen Rosie wasn't like other rockers and Poppy couldn't smile more at the thought of being her friend.  Different in the most unexpected but best possible way. Like Branch. 

But also a queen Poppy was glad to learn from as much as any friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I welcome kudos and comments! Thanks for the read!
> 
> Also next updates will have two chapters.


	6. A Part-y Aside

“Gotta say Wild Thing, you’re pretty good on a bug bike. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were a rock troll. Or raised rock at least.” Thrash quipped with a tap of his chin. Following Poppy’s path of looping around with his eyes.

“Sadly no Thrash, pop troll, hatched and raised that way since I could remember.” Poppy replied as she eagerly shook a smoky cloud from her hair.

“Well, what does that say about me and my standing as a rock troll-no  _ king _ , if a pop troll can smoke me in a race  _ and  _ bug bike stunts.”

“I don’t think it says anything about you as a rocker or king. More of a say on your biking skill than anything.” Poppy snarked as she eagerly twirled around her bug bike, driving upside down and backwards above Thrash with a not-too-smug grin.

“Oof, a jab at my fragile kingly ego. I don’t think I’ll recover.” Running a hand through his mane Thrash’s ears flattened into a line. “Anywho, Pinkie.”

“Yeah Thrash.”

“Real talk, ruler to ruler for real.” Thrash said pointing between him and Poppy as she just finished doing a loopty loop around the king’s bike.

“Ruler to ruler.” Poppy guided her bug bike to side with the rock king’s. The Fortress' landing pad in sight.

“For real.” Thrash thrummed his fingers against his bug bike’s antenna. “So. What are you gonna do once we find the pop trolls?” 

“Weeelll, simple.” Poppy started, eyes tracing the sky for her response as she hopped back onto solid ground. “Introduce myself, say hello and explain myself. Sing some pop songs, get my harmony in order and…” A grounding shrug and quiet smile. “Get home.”

Thrash ran his fingers through his hair, nodding with a hmph. He waved Poppy to follow him. Halls twisting and turning until the king spoke with a huff and more nodding.

“Rockin’. Cool. S’cool, just-what I’m about to say is kinda sappy.” Poppy wanted to give the rock king a face. The last time Thrash said he was going to do something sappy he’d begun screeching a lullaby to Willow to help her sleep-which the trolling did. But opted for her, ‘I’m listening, please continue face.’

“When you do bounce from the rock scene, try to keep contact with this rocker-if you can of course. Don’t go rippin’ space time for this guy!” Thrash joked, Poppy laughed weakly. “Cause I...gotta say you’ve grown on me like a lil pink fungus.” “Pinkie, you’re not only my mole savior-” Thrash stopped, turning to Poppy all fang and grins “-But you’re a friend, my friend. And I’ll miss you.”

Poppy blinked as Thrash quickly pushed past the door.

“Wow, Thrash I-” 

“SURPRISE!”

Poppy jumped as she came face to face with the room. 

There were definitely decorations, albeit more spikey, lining the ceiling and walls of the room. And food that didn’t nearly look as crunchy as the food that was usually had in the castle. Even fruit!

Willow and Rosie stood with Vamp and Hook. Thrash making his way over.

“Oh my gosh, you guys!” Poppy exclaimed, a smile climbing her cheeks as disbelief etched into her voice. “You guys threw a surprise party for me?”

“You’re a friend Pinkie and we wanted to give a proper party parting gift.” Thrash chuckled as he ruffled a slightly frowny Willow’s hair. “Less property damage edition of course.”

“A bit boring but…”

“ _ Willow _ .” Rosie scolded softly with a soft arch of her brow.

Willow didn’t get where the problem was as she glanced around. “What, it’s true”

“Well how about we turn this zero to ten, aye Willow! And show our pink friend a goodbye gift with rocker’s flare!” Thrash exclaimed as he swung Willow into his arms and pointed excitedly at Poppy.

“Yeah!” Willow gave a fangy smile before scampering towards Poppy. Tugging her towards the leather and scratch coated jukebox. “Come on Pinkie!”

There are celebrations, Poppy almost forgot how good a party felt across the board. Pop or not. Nothing beats good company and a song to find your rhythm to. Also fruit helps. Through and through, it’s a good party. Willow even teaches Poppy a couple rockin 'dance moves. 

Poppy was more than pleasantly surprised by being pulled into the dark of the hallway by Weezer.

“Weezer! Great to see you here, I thought you were more of hermit but anybody can be a party person-wanna join?”

“You were right on the hermit part.” Weezer stated flatly. As she waved off Poppy’s eagerness scratching her head with her cain. “Gotta ask, refresh a geezer’s memory on how you’re going about getting your harmony” 

“Oh you know, sing a few pop songs maybe do some dancing without seeing my young dad then bam, home sweet home!”

“You’re gonna get your harmony like that?”

“Yep.”

Weezer asks “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Weezer asks again, stressing it. “I mean, are you really  _ sure _ ?”

Poppy is more frustrated than she’d like letting a bit of sharp escape her. “Yes! It was  _ you _ after all Weezer, that said I needed to get my harmony, say my name and get home; wasn’t it!?”

Weezer nods as if remembering a simple reminder. “That is all how you get back home but…”

“But  _ and _ ?”

“Is pop really the means to your inner harmony?” Weezer asks.

Poppy looks at Weezer dumbfounded. An ‘are you serious’ squint and all. 

“Of course pop is a means to  _ my _ inner harmony, it’s my roots where  _ I _ came from, it’s home.” She’s the Queen of Pop for crying out loud what else could give her inner harmony?!

Weezer says nothing for a couple seconds. No quips or frantic motions and looks into Poppy’s eyes, her swirly glasses failed to hide the older troll’s stare poking through Poppy like a juicebox straw.

“It’s your harmony Little Miss Pink Thing. It's your string.” Weezer says quietly and waddles down the hall. Poppy lets Weezer walk until she disappears around the corner. 

What did Weezer even mean? 

  
Then Rosie startles her, asking how she’s doing. Poppy quickly deflected and smiled a smile that had a bit more teeth than smile. “Doing better than great Rosie!”

Rosie cocks her head with a grin aimed at Poppy. Pointing back to the room. “Good to hear. The party is inside, Willows practically vibrating through the dance floor waiting for you Pinkie.” 

Poppy gives a small laugh, as she cranes to peak past Rosie at an eagerly raging Willow on the dance floor. “I’ll be in, in a minute.” Rosie disappeared back into the room.

Poppy was going about getting her harmony the right way. What was there to worry about. Nothing. Just Weezer being Weezer. Covering her bases. Poppy would be home after the night and have a crazy story to tell Barb and everyone else.

Pushing away from the dark wall of the hallway, Poppy made her way back into the lit up room. 

Shaking Weezer's conversation off her back.

What was there to doubt?


	7. END-

“I’m sorry we had to do this so hush hush Pinkie, not to mention the whole cloak thing. Just, ya know most rock trolls in the city are...less than lovey towards pop trolls.” Thrash whispered as he leaned towards Poppy. Apology etching his face.

“Don’t worry Thrash, I get it.” Poppy couldn’t help but get it when she remembered the glares and harsh stares when rock trolls first saw her in Rock City without a cloak on and a royal and/or royal guard on standby. Poppy adjusted her cloak as Thrash led her to the front of the angler bus, maw creaking open to reveal the dark clear night the bus swam through and the swaths of forestry below.

With a shudder they land. 

Thrash was saying something talking to a scout, pointing off in a direction. Saying that they’d last seen a pop troll group moving in that direction. Poppy wish she knew what exactly told her to bolt off on a bug bike but Thrash shouting after her only told her that she’d be right back after she talked with the group. She was a great talker. Thrash still yelled after her.

So Poppy flew and flew.

And Poppy did spot the group of pop trolls the scout told Thrash about, excited and shouting to get their attention. Poppy parked the bugbike and raced towards them. Cracking a firestick provided by Thrash she waves frantically to the pop trolls. One seems to take note of her, she flies over. Talking and planning a mile a minute. 

“Oh my gosh I’m just so-”

The lead pop troll snaps “What are you doing?!”

Poppy looks on, confused at the group on pop trolls, a majority with colors dulled. Before her firestick is slapped out of her hand

Poppy yelps, “That’s flammable!” Branch would’ve been proud.

A pop troll yells-hisses at Poppy as they glance around them. Looking for a threat Poppy couldn’t see. “ _ They’ll _ see it!”

Poppy’s brow scrunches in confusion, asking “They? Who!?”

Fire glowing and growing a pop troll looks up in horror and hushes the two of them. A resounding thump echos, the group grows still. Then realization dawns on Poppy. Why the pop trolls are so elusive, why they’re hiding.

Another thud and shake of their surroundings.

Burgens.

“It’s too late.” A troll says no longer attempting a whisper.

Poppy follows the trolls gaze to two bright lights. 

Lighting up the night as the flame stick roared with hunger.

Yellow Eyes glinting, then another set and another. Poppy and the group are running before she even realizes it. As the fire grows with a roar eating at greenery, building itself into an empire of heat. The group turns this way and that as giant claws grab at them between the hedges of fire.

Until someone exclaims that they take to the trees over the growling flames and guttery laughter.

Climbing up and up is all Poppy feels as they rush away. A panic that she’d thought she had forgotten filled her body. Hair reaching, feets and arms scraping at trees, just out of reach.

Until Poppy and the group are far enough up the tree to catch their breaths. A troll says they’re one troll missing

A beat

Another troll exclaims that they can see the bergens heading towards the outpost with terror in their voice. The fire continues to climb up and up. Fire splitting as giant forms push through. And a voice pulled Poppy to attention

“You, this is your fault.” the leader says, the fire below allowed weak breaths of light but Poppy could see their damp eyes.

Poppy scrambles to explain herself, “I-I’m a pop troll! I needed to find you-the pop trolls!”

The troll isn’t listening as they near her

“Pop troll? If you were one, this entire disaster wouldn’t happen.” “This is your fault!”

The words bolt Poppy in her place.

Poppy’s heart sinks at those words. Pleading that they listen. Let her explain. “Please, let me come with you. I can fix this-”

“Fix!” The lead troll yells, disbelief and irritation itching into their face arching into a snarl aimed at Poppy as they neared her, Poppy shrinking under their gaze. “The answer is no and as far as I’m concerned never breath, talk, or walk near the pop tribe from this point on”

Poppy gapes in silence as her brain takes in the troll’s words and steely expression. Eyes scanning over the rest of the party who wore similar angry expressions or their gaze is pointed at their surroundings fear and paranoia wading through them.

A heavy quiet stabs the air around Poppy and the group. There were no words but Poppy stuttered for them, voice growing ragged as her eyes dampened. Nothings leaving her.

She wanted to say she was Poppy. She was Queen Poppy and she was sorry and she wanted-she wanted to...she was sorry.

Nothing came out, except a trail of tears.

At a point one troll takes the leader's attention and points to the base of the tree saying the fire is climbing farther up the trunk. The group is gone, one by one goes Poppy’s way home. The leader is the last to go, leaving Poppy with a glare before whipping off into the dark.

Poppy’s way home was gone and it was all her fault

A crash shakes Poppy back to life. Wood splintered and squealed as flames ate at the trunk and branches. Poppy’s eyes frantically seeked a perch absent of clambering and clutching fire. Over there? No. Up there?! No, no, and no!

Poppy’s heart is in her throat as she whirls and swirls in place. Suddenly there is no branch under, only oceans of fire below. Orange claws reaching up and up towards Poppy. As Poppy fell and fell. Ash flakes swimming through the air. Falling and falling.

A glint of yellow. Bergens, before Chef before capture. Trolls were going to get hurt because of Poppy.

The dark sky above, a crack of white split across the inky dark. Thunder chasing at its heels. Thunder and a rocker’s scream was drowned as the fire roared and had Poppy in its clutches

The dark blue sky shrank and shrank, orange and red waves growing. Trolls were going to get hurt because of Poppy! 

And Poppy couldn’t go to the pop trolls. Not after this...

Drowning Poppy. Plumes of tall gray jellyfish swept up the world above. Another crack of thunder. A buzzing. The thunder and fire fought, belting out booming crys.

Wood wailed as a branch fell. Right towards Poppy.

Poppy couldn’t reconnect with pop music! Poppy couldn’t say her name or fix her harmony! 

Poppy couldn’t go...home.

A bug bike darted through the fire. The branch and bug racing down as gravity and fire below opened their palms and claws to welcome them and Poppy in their whirlpool of destruction.

Oranges, reds, and darkened hues swam and blurred as the world became a sick smudge to Poppy. Darkening and only blurring further. 

Heat nibbled. Then bit and sunk its teeth into Poppy’s head.

Squealing and flaking flora drilled into Poppy's head as she squeezed her eyes shut. Everything was happening too quickly, too much! Too much of everything!

Why didn’t it all just stop!

Poppy just wanted to go home! She didn’t want to hurt anybody! Pink flushing to gray as tears went to kiss the sky. Up and up they went. Poppy only diving down and down. It didn’t matter, because there was only heat below and Poppy would never go home.

The world and its noise began to tune itself out, like slowly turning the lights on and the music down at a party’s ending. Growing fainter and quieter.

Then entered silence.


End file.
